


Auld Acquaintance

by Dandee



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:25:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandee/pseuds/Dandee
Summary: Danny’s laugh rolls into a hum and he grabs a tortilla chip out of the bowl. He chews thoughtfully, watches Roy drag a glass from the rack and pour up the Chardonnay. There’s a light stubble coming in at the ends of his jawline, his grin is settling and his eyes are relaxed.He’s calm-- a lot calmer than Danny’s seen him in a long time.New Year, old friends. Time's a funny thing.





	Auld Acquaintance

**Author's Note:**

> She’s back and she’s canon! Who knew writer’s block and procrastination could be so much fun?? Much love to my good jooties Dylann, goneawaygirl, thief and Spacespice for the yells and bells

He’s one of those people that Danny finds himself _watching_.

He’s just so easy to watch, so easy to look at.

He’s like a slow-motioned, Debussy-themed montage in a Christmas movie, with his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut, big white teeth flashing across the screen when he laughs. 

Danny loves that laugh. 

And it’s funny, this year, how the holidays have put things into perspective-- how even though he could literally not give two shits about the hype of Christmas, _even_ in the pagan sense, it’s cool how things are just falling into place. Sure, there’s all the ‘new year new me’ and all the bullshit resolutions that people come up with. Yoga studios hire sign spinners for the street and sober-living facilities up the ante on their commercial time-slots, but that’s not it. That's not it this time, he isn’t seeking solace in product placement and self-help books this year. 

He doesn’t need to, and it’s hitting him that he doesn’t need to as he watches Roy steady himself on John’s shoulder.

“I told you, no kissin’ on the mouth. I don’t kiss hookers.”

John makes a face and snakes an arm around Roy’s waist. Though Roy protests at first, he rolls his eyes and sways into a side-hug.

“No no, come on, no Pretty Woman tonight,” John says, pulling him tighter into the hug. “It’s New Years.”

Roy laughs and lets his arms hang, helpless in John’s embrace. “I’m not kissin’ you, bitch. Not unless you’re buying me that fuckin’ necklace.”

Danny smiles into his drink. John catches his eye.

“So, a quarter million dollars and we’re making out?” he asks with a smirk. 

Roy takes a second, then nods decidedly. “Make it fifty and we got a deal.”

John laughs and pulls back, giving Danny a _this bitch_ kind of look, and Danny shrugs. He leans over the kitchen counter and shakes the ice in his glass.

“So, fifty bucks? Fifty bucks, alright-- where’s the nearest ATM--”

Roy whirls around to knock John on the shoulder, screeching, “Fifty bucks? What the- what do you think I am? You’re a fuckin-”

“Well we’ve established what you are,” John interrupts, catching his hand with a smug grin, “now we’re just negotiating.”

Filip hollers from the hallway along with the others and Roy’s cackle echoes through the room again. Danny’s laughing too, and he watches Roy swat John’s arms away, hollering I-hate-you’s and I-never-liked-you’s with flapping hands and when he breaks free, he staggers into the kitchen.

“Ass fuckin’ holes,” he chuckles breathlessly.

Danny’s laugh rolls into a hum and he grabs a tortilla chip out of the bowl. He chews thoughtfully, watches Roy drag a glass from the rack and pour up the Chardonnay. There’s a light stubble coming in at the ends of his jawline, his grin is settling and his eyes are relaxed.

He’s calm-- a lot calmer than Danny’s seen him in a long time.

In ways, Danny’s grateful for John. Roy’s been known to isolate, to overwork himself, and John-- well, it’s clear that he’s provided somewhat of a distraction. Danny’s assuming. Actually he doesn’t one hundred percent want to know.

But John’s a good guy, and he’s a good lay (a solid eight, if you're asking) and if he’s kept Roy from staying holed up in his apartment for days on end, kept him from hanging out with the wrong people, well, that’s cool. Even if Danny can’t help but notice Roy’s eyes watching John cross the room, how they follow him almost too fondly-- hey. Free love, right?

Jealousy isn't a foreign concept to Danny, but _fuck_ it's rare.

A light prickling at his ankles gets his attention. He glances down to see Dede, raised up on her hind legs and pressing into him with her front paws. His heart swells.

“Hi Dede,” he coos, and her ears prick up. Danny laughs when her tail starts to wag, taking her whole ass with it. “Hi baby, hi! What are you doin? _What is you doin?_ ”

The little dog jumps down and spins in a quick circle, tail crazy and paws stomping in place. This fuckin’ dog, so damn cute-- Danny melts every time. He can’t stop the high pitched baby babble that comes out of his mouth when he bends down and gives her the rest of his chip. 

“Will you quit feedin’ her?”

He catches Roy’s eye. Hip rested against the counter, swirling his wine with a cocked brow and a challenging gaze. Though he’s shaking his head, those dimples are very much there and they give him away.

“What? I can’t _love_ my niece?”

“I could barely get that sweater on her this morning.”

“Well you know what that means,” Danny says, turning his attention back to Dede. He hoists her lip-smacking self up and holds her close to his chest, continuing with the baby talk, “we’re just gonna have to get you a bigger sweater. Yes! Aren’t we? Yes we are-”

“She _needs_ a diet, that’s what she fuckin’ needs,” Roy chuckles.

“Don't body-shame her, man.” Danny covers one of her ears with his free hand and shoots him a look. He whispers in her other, “don’t listen to him, you’re beautiful..”

Roy assumes a side-smile and strolls toward them. 

His eyes don’t leave Danny’s as he draws closer. He’s soft when he sidles up next to them, the warmth from his chest brushing against Danny’s arm. He leans into Roy naturally, drawn like a magnet.

Another prickling at his feet and Danny glances down to see Sammy, looking up at him expectantly.

“You see what you started?” Roy says.

Danny chuckles. “He _moved_ , I’m shook.”

“Of course he did, there’s food involved.” 

Sammy grunts a bit, tongue slapping around his snout while he shifts his gaze to Roy. 

And what does Roy do? He gives him a chip. Oh yes he fuckin’ does, big softy.

Danny quips, “But it's my fault?” 

That earns him an eyeroll. As the dog scurries back to his bed, chip-in-mouth, Roy flicks the salt from his fingertips.

“Yes it’s your fault,” he says, cutting eyes at Danny and poking him in the side. “They didn’t beg before you came around.” 

“Oh, _what_ the _fuck_ ever,” Danny laughs. Someone from the living room calls “bullshit”, and there he goes, he’s off again, swiping his glass off the counter-- Roy’s flapping his hands and darting back toward the others in defense.

His little frame whizzes around the room in an animated fashion, and Danny can’t help the smile that creeps along his features. See, Roy gets like this-- with a few good drinks and a few good people around-- he gets all excited and jazzed up, kind of like he thrives on the buzz of a good time. He’s very much in his element tonight, surrounded by people that he loves and love him in return-- but it’s different because he _wants_ to be here. He wants them here. It’s not a gig, it’s not work, it’s not a stadium or a theatre. It’s a living room with people, a room meant for living. 

_Living_.

Fuck, that’s what Seattle was supposed to be. A living room, a living place. A new start for Danny, a place to settle in and connect with himself, a place to grow and learn and find out who he is and all the bullshit. All the stupid shit you apparently have to do in your twenties.

But working and gigging and touring all the time, it-- it takes its toll, man.

He’s not the only one. He’s seen it with a lot of girls. Sharon, Alaska, Jinkx-- and they’d all tell you the same thing Michelle did, that first night on the bus. Take care of yourself. Don’t be stupid. This shit’ll get you.

It’s a topic that’s come up a lot, especially recently. It’s like every time he’d get around to hanging out with another one of the girls the stories would just get crazier. Fans doing even crazier shit, stupid shit. Being followed home. Being robbed. All the bullshit, the stuff you never really thought you’d have to worry about being a drag queen. 

Queens talking about quitting drag. Katya’d been talking about it for months. 

Danny wishes-- _God_ it would be nice-- to be able to perform as himself. Sell out stadiums as Danny. See Danny on album covers. See his own fucking name.

It's an old familiar feeling, that bitterness that creeps in. Danny knows it well, and he takes a sip from his glass to push it back down.

Another raspy cackle fills the room, followed by a few more profanities.

Roy. The uncharted territory.

Danny swirls his ice, watching the little bubbles pop at the surface. It almost happened, once. It should have happened more than once. 

But Roy got busy, _real_ busy. Phonecalls became less frequent, texts were sparse-- the groupchat survived, but that was about it. 

They never talked about it.

But when Danny came back-- when he really came back, fully committed to being back-- there was almost this sense of relief from Roy. An exhalation of sorts, followed by an obvious want for Danny’s company. He wanted Danny there, with him, constantly-- inviting him over every other night, taking him out. Days filled with thrifting and nights filled with boozing. Even in his touch, his mannerisms-- he wanted to sit close, wanted skin on skin. 

One night, Roy cracked.

Danny never asked why. He said nothing as Roy cried into his shirt. The sounds that tore from his throat, sounds he’d _never_ heard come from Roy and never wanted to hear again were buried into Danny’s chest and burned into his mind, and for what? Money, success, respect-- a lack of life wrapped in a shiny red bow. 

Bianca. The sad clown.

That was the night Danny knew he’d made the right decision, coming home. Michelle was right. 

When midnight comes around Danny almost misses it because he’s pouring himself a drink.

And everybody's yelling and hugging, glasses clinking and party horns braying. It’s the stereotypical New Year’s Eve montage, Auld Lang Syne flowing through the apartment while images of love and friendship flash across the screen. And of course here comes Roy, into the kitchen, coming in for a hug.

“You fucker,” Danny laughs and holds his arms wide. Roy’s eyes are heavy lidded and his smile is sweet. He hums and hugs Danny tight. They stay like that for a moment.

A muffled “love you” into Danny’s shoulder, and Danny swallows hard and pulls his arms tighter around Roy.

Here. Here is where he’s supposed to be.

Danny feels a featherweight pressing of paws at his ankles and chuckles when he smiles down at Dede. Her tail’s not unlike a hologram, the way it's wagging.

“Aww, Dede,” he coos. She cocks her head with that cute-ass little face and Danny can't help it. He pulls back from Roy and reaches down, scooping her up with ease. 

“Did you want some New Years lovins?” he asks in the high-pitched baby voice. She licks his cheek and he snuggles her close. “Huh? New year same us? Is that it?”

He scratches her under the chin and her leg twitches. Danny snorts with laughter and looks to Roy, but Roy’s not laughing. He’s just standing close, his gaze clouded with what looks like both a thousand thoughts and none at all, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips. 

Danny quiets, holding his gaze. He grins sheepishly, shrugging a shoulder and giving a soft,

“What?”

Roy’s smile widens a bit but he shakes his head. His eyes run back and forth over Danny’s like he’s searching for something, something that can't be found. Roy takes a step to close the gap and Danny’s heart picks up speed, kicks up the bass and it pounds in his chest. 

He watches Roy, watches his eyes flicker to his lips, then back up again, like he's asking. Waiting.

Then he leans in close, so close that their noses touch, and he hovers there, waits. Danny doesn't move, only blinks, gazing at the softness of Roy’s bottom lip. It’s been so long. Too long. 

Roy’s hand comes to slide along his jaw and into his hair, and Danny leans into the touch, tilting his head. His eyes fall closed, and the familiar softness of Roy’s lips press against his. The world goes quiet. 

That feeling. That feeling immediately comes back, the one that never left, not really. The feeling of sense, of puzzle pieces and tetris, that feeling of _yes_. 

Roy’s thumb strokes Danny’s temple as he pulls back sooner than Danny would have liked. His body follows him, swaying forward, and he gives a breath of a laugh. Roy chuckles too.

Dede chooses then to squirm up and lick Danny’s face, this time getting his lips. Danny sputters in surprise and shakes his head, “Oh-- oh okay. Yeah.”

Roy nods and sighs, taking a step back. “Yep.”

The little dog only seems encouraged by this moment she’s interrupted, wiggling in Danny's arms and trying for more kisses. Danny just laughs and lets her.

Roy shakes his head on his way back to the living room. Before he can make it out of the kitchen, he stops and turns.

“Hey you're not-- you're not drivin’ tonight, are you?”

He asks it with a furrowed brow but a careful eye, and Danny knows _exactly_ what it means. For the sake of keeping up appearances, he replies just as nonchalantly.

“No, I don't think so. Not tonight.”

Roy presses his lips together to hide a smile, nodding his head and shoving a hand in his pocket. 

“So you're not uh--” he chuckles. He drops the act and shrugs, casts a long gaze, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “You're not going anywhere?”

The words hang in the air, maybe more than they should. Danny watches his face, watches his eyes shine in the lamplight and his raven hair brush against the wall. 

“No,” he says. “I'm not.”

Roy blinks, his gaze unwavering. Danny stands his ground, holding Dede and looking back at him. The idea of Roy doesn't terrify him in the way that it used to-- it’s mutually acceptable fact that _this_ has been a long time coming.

With a calm nod, Roy turns on his heel and heads back to the living room.

Danny lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He sets Dede back down, then braces himself against the counter for a moment. His mind is running a million miles a minute and his dick is _definitely_ getting hard at the mere thought of what the rest of the night entails-- 

God. He needs a distraction.

He whips out his phone and pulls up the Wish app. He types in ‘dog sweaters’ and runs a hand through his hair.


End file.
